A Rush of Blood to the Head

"So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war,
If you can tell me something worth fighting for."
-Coldplay

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. None of it. Blast. The title and the quote are from the Coldplay song of the same name.

SUMMARY: Basically an AU season three.

WARNINGS: Contents may be hot. Some cursing, violence, disturbing imagery, maybe even a character death or two if I'm feeling frisky. And I am feeling frisky.

NOTES: Just FYI, my favorite character is Starbuck, of course. So if you don't like Starbuck just go jump off a bridge, I mean, don't read this story.

REVIEWS: Yes, thank you.

Current Day: Six months after the Cylon Invasion on New Caprica

Starbuck knew she should be more worried about her current situation than she was. She should be worried about the steady streams of blood slipping out of her body or her broken arm only attached by an odd angle or the troubling numbness in her toes or the whistle in her lungs or that constant fuzzy buzzing starting at the back of her swollen eyeballs lancing through her skull. She knew she should crawl over to the fledgling escape tunnel in the cement wall hidden under the bare wood pallet and resume her scratching. She'd started the tunnel almost immediately upon her capture out of boredom rather than out of any real hope to escape. She thought maybe she should bind her wounds and skewed limbs. She wondered briefly if her bones weren't the only things broken. She knew she should…She knew she should… get up, fight back…scream until her voice abandoned her…crawl over to the pallet, gather her strength…sleep…dream of sky, dream of stars … hope, live…she should, she should. But she was distracted. As she lay in pieces on the bare concrete floor, Starbuck was frozen into inaction by the paralyzing feeling that she could still feel the steaming brains of her now deceased husband slide across her face and settle on her skin.

Six Months Earlier: Day One of the Cylon Occupation

"Fight until we can't anymore."

With that said Cally, Starbuck, and the Chief inconspicuously slip into an empty tent. All the settlers too preoccupied by the cruel parody of a parade to notice their retreat. Cally and the Chief fold into each other, taking comfort from each other without the need for unwieldy words or cumbersome gazes. Almost as one, they both rest a hand on Cally's swollen belly. Both aware that this cylon invasion threatens not just them, but their baby. Both aware that they would do whatever it takes to ensure the life and the freedom of their child. They wouldn't be taken in by the promises of peace, the possibility of living in harmony.

The cylons could only live with the humans if they were in absolute control. But cylons are machines, limited by their programing. They breath rules, structure, and order. And humans? Well, humans are the antithesis to order. There could be no peace, there could never be peace between man and cylon.

"Frak. Frak. Frak."

Starbuck didn't have the comfort of her other. She had more worries. Sam was sick. Really sick. The cylons had most definitely arrived in force. That meant the fleet, and the medicine Sam needed, had either been destroyed or jumped away. Either way out of reach. First things first, resistance.

"Can you two spread the word, only to people we can absolutely trust, see who's wants to kick toaster ass?"

Cally chipped in. "We'll need to stow away weapons, food, and medicine."

"Let's keep this thing quiet. Have people stockpile supplies. And for now, no one makes a move against the cylons until we know what the frak the toasters want." Starbuck visibly annoyed at the though of waiting finished.

Tyrol no longer just a grease monkey but a well respected and connected public figure, who understands the workings of the crowd, the mind of the people, pulls his wife into a tighter embrace.

"We'll need Cottle. With Baltar working with the cylons, the people will need a new leader…no…not a new leader, a trusted leader. "

Starbuck nods.

"Get Roslin. And find Tigh, I just saw him and Ellen in the market. A hell of day to move down. Meet back here as soon as you can. I have to check on Sam. Pass the word to the troops.Just be care…Good hunting."

"Good Hunting, Captain."

Starbuck grins maniacally at her long unused rank and exits the tent.

Cally and the Chief stand silently held by each other's arms in the middle of the vacant tent, a tiny oasis of quiet and peace. Their hands caress her stomach; their thoughts rest on their child. A flutter of motion, the baby kicks.